Spotlight on Samantha Grace!!

Please welcome my guest today, the fantastic, multi-published Regency Author Samantha Grace! Samantha is here today with her latest release, One Rogue Too Many!! She’ll be giving away one copy to a commenter who says they want the book.

As always, we’ll begin with the cover. Isn’t it lovely.

Now the blurb.

From the betting book at Brooks’s Gentleman’s Club: 
Wager: £2,000 that Lord Ellis will throw the first punch when he discovers Lord Thorne is wooing a certain duke’s sister.

All bets are off when the game is love

Lady Gabrielle is thrilled when she learns Anthony Keaton, Earl of Ellis, wants to ask for her hand in marriage. She’s not so pleased when he then leaves the country and four months pass without a word. Clearly, the scoundrel has changed his mind and is too cowardly to tell her. There’s nothing to do but go back on the marriage mart…

When Anthony returns to Town and finds his ultimate rival has set sights on Gabby, his continual battle of one-upmanship with Sebastian Thorne ceases to be a game. Anthony is determined to win back the woman who holds his heart—but he’s not expecting Gabby herself to up the stakes…

And if you still need more convincing, an excerpt with a note from Samantha.

I’m often asked if I enjoy writing male or female characters better, and there’s no contest. Men are just more fun! I love their no-holds-barred banter and competitive sprits, so I had a great time writing the first book in my Rival Rogues series, One Rogue Too Many. The series is about two gentlemen who have been friendly rivals since childhood, but when they compete for the same lady, their rivalry ceases to be a game. Here’s a peek at their friendship before things begin to sour.

Anthony arrived at Brooks’s the next morning earlier than usual. Sebastian Thorne was known to break his fast at the club, and they needed to have a little chat. He didn’t know what the baron was about pretending interest in courting Gabby, but it was a dangerous game.

Anthony didn’t think Thorne was foolhardy enough to do anything that would compromise her. Any man would have to be cork-brained to risk her brothers’ wrath. But it would be equally dangerous to make her the object of one of his bets. Anthony glanced around the packed club, wondering which daft gent would accept one of Thorne’s challenges.

Besides yourself? He grimaced. Well, maybe he had been stupid in the past, but his days of indulging Thorne were over.

He found the baron sitting alone at a table with a cup of tea and the morning newssheet unopened beside the saucer.

He grinned over the rim of the cup as he took a sip. “Missed me while you were away?”

“As much as one would a bloody case of indigestion.” Anthony dropped into the chair across from him. He nodded at the newssheet. “You never read your copy. Why do you bring it?”

“If I leave the house early enough and snag the paper on my way out, Mother and Eve never run across an ugly piece of gossip.”

“Ah.” Anthony nodded. It was a shame people had nothing better to do than spread tales about Thorne’s family. Anthony had always held a bit of sympathy for him, not that he’d dare let on. The baron was meaner than a badger if he thought someone pitied him.

A footman approached and set a plate of eggs and sausage in front of Thorne.

Anthony sat forward, leaning his elbows on the table. “You’re either brave or very stupid.”

“Come now, the sausage isn’t all that bad.” Thorne shook out his napkin with a smirk.

“I think you know my meaning.”

The baron cut into his eggs. “Am I to assume this has to do with Lady Gabrielle?”

“You’re smarter than you look, but still a numbskull. Don’t come begging me to be your second when the duke issues a challenge.”

“And why would Foxhaven call me out? I’m properly courting the lady.”

Anthony scoffed.

“You think I’m lying.”

“Not completely,” Anthony admitted, thinking of Thorne’s respect for his own sister. “But you have a talent for walking the line between proper and debauched.”

Thorne popped a piece of sausage in his mouth and waved his fork at Anthony. “What’s your interest in the lady? Isn’t she like a sister to you?”

“I hardly have brotherly inclinations toward her,” he drawled and hooked an elbow over the seatback. “She’s to be my wife. I’m on my way to make an offer.”

“Is she now? Do you plan to club her over the head first then drag her to the altar? I can’t see her going willingly.”

Anthony didn’t bother answering. “Just stay away from her. Besides, she’s not your type. She is a romantic.”

“Egads,” he groaned in mock distress. “Not one of those.” He raised a hand to summon a footman and ordered two plates piled with sausage.

“Yes sir.” The footman shot a quick look at Anthony, grinned, then hustled away.

“You’ll have to loosen your corset if you eat all that,” Anthony said.

Thorne pushed his half-eaten meal aside. “I have a way to settle which of us will continue courting the lady.”

“There’s nothing to settle. By this afternoon, she will be my betrothed.”

The footman returned with two plates quicker than Anthony expected and set one in front of him and one in front of Thorne. A low rumble began in the club as men began looking their way.

Thorne’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “A contest to see which gentleman will step aside. Whichever man can shove the most sausages in his mouth—one end out, mind you—becomes the winner of the fair lady’s hand.”

There was a shout for the betting book and a few men inched closer.

Anthony shoved the plate away. “I’m not allowing a sausage to decide my fate.”

Thorne’s dark eyebrow arched as if to counter his claim. “Very well. Then I refuse to back down. Either a plate of sausages decides the matter or the superior wooer takes the prize.”

Lord Ledbery came over with the betting book and men began calling out their bets. Soon a crowd gathered around their table, someone bumping Anthony’s chair. Thorne met his gaze across the table and smiled.

Bollocks! Once the baron set his mind to something, he wouldn’t quit. He’d be dogging Gabby’s heels morning and night until Anthony had her down the aisle.

“Fine,” he growled and jerked the plate in front of him, upsetting the pile. It was the most ridiculous way to settle a matter, but Anthony would win and be done with it.

Thorne grinned. “You may go first. Once you set the number, I will exceed it.”

Anthony scowled, picked up a link, and defiantly shoved it in his mouth. Then another and another until his lips felt stretched to capacity. He paused to take a breath. The spices were already making his tongue tingle.

Thorne slowly picked up a sausage from his plate and wagged it. “Done already? After only three?”

“Just wait,” Anthony managed to grumble.

The baron gestured for Anthony to continue. He slowly wedged two more sausages into his mouth and nearly choked on the grease sliding down his throat. His eyes began to water, but he held his ground.

Anthony wiggled his tongue along the slippery casings, wondering how he would fit any more in his mouth. It seemed impossible, but he wasn’t going to let Thorne win. The sixth sausage was tougher than he’d anticipated, however. He eyed Thorne’s plate, trying to calculate the odds of the baron being able to beat five.

“Come on,” Thorne goaded. “This is for the lovely Lady Gabrielle.”

Anthony glared at him then continued the task with renewed determination. He did his best to shove one more sausage between the others, and he almost had it too when the sausage burst. Grease dribbled down his chin and plopped on his cravat and waistcoat.

Damn!

Thorne threw his head back, laughing so hard he almost fell out of his chair. Their audience also hooted with laughter, making Anthony feel like the butt of a joke. Well, let Thorne see how funny it was to have grease down his front. Anthony dislodged the links, dropped them on the plate, and snatched Thorne’s napkin from the table. He smacked his lips, trying to get rid of the horrible taste.

“Let’s see you beat that number.” Anthony held up his cravat and cursed. He’d have to change and get rid of this disgusting taste in his mouth before he called on Gabby.

Thorne was still laughing. When he sobered, he looked across the table, his eyes still shining with amusement. “Congratulations, Ellis. You are clearly the better man.”

Anthony frowned. “What do you mean? Aren’t you going to try to win?”

Thorne shrugged. “You know how to handle sausage. How am I to compete?”

The gents in the club howled. Anthony’s face heated. Was this nothing more than a joke? Had Thorne intended to step aside the whole time? He couldn’t help laughing at himself. He pushed back from the table and pointed at the baron. “You are evil.”

The baron grinned. “You have no idea.”

I adore both gentlemen, but unfortunately only one can win Lady Gabrielle’s heart. Rest assured, however, the jilted gentleman will have his chance to fall in love, too. (In Bed with a Rogue, Rival Rogues #2, September 2014) I hope you enjoyed the excerpt. Out of curiosity, which gentleman do you think you might choose?

I’d like to thank Ella for inviting me to be a guest on her fabulous blog. It’s always fun to chat with everyone. To show my appreciation, I am offering a signed print copy of One Rogue Too Many to one of Ella’s readers today. (Open Internationally)

Buy links:

Amazon | Barnes and Noble | Sourcebooks

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Samantha Grace Author | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Lady Scribes

Bio:

Historical romance author Samantha Grace discovered the appeal of a great love story when she was just a young girl, thanks to Disney’s “Robin Hood”. She didn’t care that Robin Hood and Maid Marian were cartoon animals. It was her first happily-ever-after experience and she didn’t want the warm fuzzies to end. Now that Samantha is grown, she enjoys creating her own happy-endings for characters that spring from her imagination. Publisher’s Weekly describes her stories as “fresh and romantic” with subtle humor and charm. Samantha describes romance writing as the best job ever.

Part-time hospice social worker, moonlighting author, and Pilates nut, she enjoys a happy and hectic life with her real life hero and two kids in the Midwest.